


He Didn't Understand Why He Felt The Need To Pay For It

by fromthedepthsofinsanity



Series: First Line - One Piece Edition [2]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Denial of Feelings, Explicit Sexual Content, Loneliness, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Prostitute!Zoro, Prostitution, Rich!Luffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-12-07 23:02:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20983832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromthedepthsofinsanity/pseuds/fromthedepthsofinsanity
Summary: Zoro shouldn't have let his feelings become involved in his job, and yet, what could he have done to stop them?Luffy being who he is certainly didn't help.





	He Didn't Understand Why He Felt The Need To Pay For It

**Author's Note:**

> I really struggled with the tags for this latest edition to the First Line Series. If there's any that you think are befitting, please let me know and I'll add them. 
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy.

He didn’t understand why he felt the need to pay for it. After all, Luffy was a catch and could rightfully have his pick of just about anyone. For free. So why, Zoro wondered, would Luffy use any amount of cash to have someone warm his bed and body when it would be  _ so easy _ otherwise? 

Daddy’s money must be burning a hole in the heir apparent’s pocket. Coming from not one, not two, but three long lines of Richer-Than-God families had its perks, he supposed. 

“Ah!” 

Zoro couldn’t say he minded. Luffy’s, or rather his family’s, bank account kept a roof over his head and food on his table. Out of all the people paying his bills, he had to admit that Luffy was up there as his favorite by far. 

“Zoro!” A sound like a shot, smothered almost immediately by the pillow Luffy had in his arms as Zoro pushed harshly forward again. 

A smooth smirk stretched Zoro’s lips as he stared down the slope of Luffy’s back. He  _ loved _ taking others like this: their hips in his punishing grip and up in presentation, their hands useless and scrabbling across their bed, their faces pressed into their own sheets, their bodies below his and completely at his lack of mercy. That Luffy agreed,  _ wanted _ ,  _ asked _ , to be taken from behind, very nearly short-circuited Zoro’s brain. Clients normally wanted him face-to-face, chest-to-chest, so they could cling to him, mewl into his skin, see his handsome smile and pretend what they had was real. 

Of course, this wasn’t the first time Luffy had stunned him, and Zoro was excited to see how many more times he could. Though, for now, that wasn’t high on his list of priorities; something a little more base was in order. 

Zoro’s hand abandoned Luffy’s hip in favor of running down his spine and gripping the short, dark hair on the back of his head. An experimental tug pulled Luffy up just enough to free his face from his pillow and rewarded Zoro with a short, breathy gasp. Zoro repeated the action, harder this time, but no less cautious, and again Luffy gasped and continued into a moan. 

Hair-pulling. Another to add to the list, Zoro mentally tallied. 

Zoro pulled Luffy toward him by the hips and hair as he pushed forward, burying himself deep into his willing body. The slap of skin near-echoed in the almost silent room and Zoro reveled in the sound. 

“Again!” Luffy near-sobbed, “Please!” 

Who was Zoro to deny him? The brutal pace was set. Luffy was going to have a set of deep bruises on his waist, or at the very least patches missing from his hair, but neither could find it in them to care. Luffy was too far gone, swallowed absolutely whole by Zoro’s being and mastery, and Zoro was too trapped by Luffy’s willingness, adventurousness, endless  _ want _ that Zoro doubted he could satisfy. That anyone could satisfy. 

“Zoro.” Luffy groaned. He turned his head just enough to look back at him. “I’m-” 

Like he needed a warning. He could feel Luffy’s as keenly as he could feel his own end approaching. Such was the nature of his job, and such became his nature, the predictiveness, the knowing, the acting and providing. With Luffy, it was even easier. Zoro  _ wanted _ to please Luffy, wanted him every way he would give, wanted his gasps, his moans, his squirming and kneading holds, wanted his smiles…. 

Zoro stopped his train of thought abruptly. That was dangerous territory. He was already breaking a rule by silently claiming Luffy as his favorite. 

Even still, Zoro couldn’t stop himself from releasing Luffy’s hair, leaning over him, and nuzzling the top of his head. 

“Shhh.” Zoro hushed, bringing both hands back to his waist and more gently maneuvering him back and forth to meet his movements. 

Luffy whined high and long at the change of pace. Even though every thrust still met its mark deep inside him and even though Zoro’s broader, sweltering frame was all the more consuming and wonderful with him pressed flush against his back, it wasn’t enough. He spread his knees further apart, giving Zoro more room to work and hoping the perpetually unsatisfied ache would finally,  _ finally _ let up and allow Luffy to melt into mush. 

There was nothing Luffy could do on his own. It took Zoro’s wandering hand grasping his cock and stroking to make him come apart at his seams. The long cry that came from him sounded more strangled and pained than euphoric and triumphant. It made Zoro hesitate the slightest bit, stare down at Luffy with a wary eye, and part his lips to ask if he was alright. Harming one of the Heirs of Name would get him dead faster than any poison, guillotine, or bolt to the heart. 

Though, he couldn’t completely chalk up his concern to something as base as fearing death; if he had hurt Luffy… 

Zoro’s heart tightened at the thought. 

“Are-?”

“Why?” Luffy’s question killed Zoro’s own. Brown eyes darkened by lust paralyzed him as they caught his own silvery blue. His voice wavered as he continued in a husky demand. “Why’d you stop? Don’t stop. More. Move, Zoro.” 

If that didn't quell his fears, nothing would. 

A soft laugh rumbled in Zoro’s throat. Another surprise, it would seem. Regaining his pace, Zoro complied to Luffy’s request, and immediately, Luffy melted. Shaking and panting, gasping and crying, pushing back harder than Zoro pulled, Luffy was determined to hunt down his orgasm and make it his. He was on its trail and was gaining by leaps and bounds until it had nowhere to run. 

Luffy’s hand snapped up from the bed and twisted into Zoro’s hair as he shoved himself back into Zoro’s hips and cried out. White painted ribbons over Luffy’s sheets and stomach and Zoro’s hand. He didn’t register Zoro following behind, the bone-breaking grip on his hip, or the way Zoro shook at his back and whispered his name into Luffy’s nape. 

Neither could move. Neither could speak, only pant raggedly and stay tense in each other’s hold until one gave in. If they had their way, they would stew in the afterglow forever, coming down slowly from 10,000 feet in the air and safely land on the sea below without injury. 

Truth be told, neither wanted to, but both knew it had to be done eventually. The thought marched through Zoro’s head with trumpets and whistles and bells until the volume couldn’t be ignored anymore. He moved first. Gingerly, he pushed himself up and off Luffy’s body and removed himself completely. Luffy took the opportunity to flop onto his side, still panting and twitching, and hardly registered Zoro was up until he started getting cold. 

The tinkle of Zoro’s belt buckle against itself rang like a gong in Luffy’s ears. He shot up, zeroed in on Zoro’s dim frame, and stared hard enough for Zoro to feel the gaze. Zoro, pants in hand, turned his head just enough to catch eyes and stare back. 

No words. Zoro knew what Luffy was thinking, just as he knew what he was always thinking, just as he knew what almost all of his clients thought after their sessions. With Luffy, the unspoken question burned like a hot iron to his ribs.

“Zoro?” 

And it begins. “Hm?” He answered as if completely oblivious. 

“Wanna stay the night?” No halting stutter, no lack of confidence from Luffy. No matter how many times they went through the rigamarole, Luffy  _ always _ asked. 

“I can’t.” 

He could give a reason, but Luffy already knew. ‘Against the rules.’ Just like most things between the Heirs of Name and Everyone Without. 

“Hmm.” Luffy tapped his chin. “I could pay you more?” 

He talked about money like it was the weather. From anyone else, Zoro would have felt the needles of anger. 

“That’s not how it works.” 

Luffy smiles his easy, big smile. It didn’t bother him any that Zoro wouldn’t ( _ couldn’t _ ) stay. Zoro wished he could say that for all his clients, that easy acceptance, and he almost wished Luffy would pitch a fit. Not that it would change the outcome. 

“What about a shower?” Luffy asked, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and standing like he hadn’t just been fucked thoroughly. 

Zoro paused in picking up his shirt. He shouldn’t. He really, really shouldn’t. He should just gather his clothes, slink off into the washroom to quickly dispose of condom and want, dress, and leave. 

He shouldn’t, but as Zoro has been told quite frequently by many different people, he wasn’t the smartest motherfucker birthed into the world. 

Zoro closed the gap between them and cupped Luffy’s cheek, running his thumb over the soft skin there and wiping away the remnants of tears and sweat. With a smile, he nodded. 

“Just this once.” 

No part of him wished he meant that. It was something he had told him the time before last and the time before that. Every other session, like clockwork, they would end up in Luffy’s bathing room together, sharing the hot spray of the shower and enjoying the last moments of nakedness with each other. They’d wash each other’s backs, grope a little bit, hug and rub noses, dance around each other’s lips but never touch, and hum and grunt at one another to communicate. 

It was very nearly domesticate. Even, lovi- 

** _Stop_ ** . 

Feelings couldn’t be a factor. To distract himself, Zoro turned his mind to the mechanical wonder that was the shower head and lamented the fact that he’d, like many others in the godforsaken kingdom they called home, have to draw water, heat it, and fill his tub by hand. Too much trouble to make the lives of ordinary citizens easier. 

After all, what would follow? Thoughts? Learning?  _ Marrying above their station?!  _ The possibilities were terrifying. 

All well, they’d just have to get by with their relatively new, mechanical lights for now. 

Too soon, Zoro was clean and dressed; Luffy was less so, but content nonetheless. He adjusted his shirt, double checked he had what little he had brought with him, and reached out for the doorknob. 

“Zoro?” Luffy’s voice stopped him from turning the knob in his grip. “Next week?”

He couldn’t stop the barest of smiles from stretching his lips, nor could he stop himself from catching Luffy’s eye as he answered. 

“Yes. Next week. Same time.” 

Luffy beamed and moved toward him. “Maybe earlier?” 

That confused him. “Earlier?” 

“Mm-hm.” Luffy was closing the gap between them. He only stopped when he was within arm’s reach. “For dinner? I could have Zoro’s favorite made.” 

A heavy sigh blew past his teeth, and his fingers fell away from the door. So it was coming to this. As much as Zoro would love to tell Luffy, yes, of course, I would want nothing more, they  _ absolutely _ could not. It wasn’t just Luffy’s reputation that would be smeared, but Zoro’s life taken. 

What an end that would be! Zoro the Whore slaughtered on The House of Three D’s steps! The anticlimax didn’t sit well with him and his grand plans for his future. 

He’d have to set Luffy straight. No room for confusion now. 

Zoro turned to face him fully. “Luffy, we can’t-” 

Luffy pounced, hands cupping his face and forcing him to bend down to his level. Zoro hadn’t the time to escape, and Luffy’s lips crashed against his with all the gentleness of a stampeding elephant, most likely in fear that Zoro would pull away before he could finish the task he set out to complete. 

As it was, Zoro was stunned into stillness. He knew he should gently maneuver out of Luffy’s grip, mutter his apologies, and leave before anyone could see and punish them accordingly, but that would deny him this memory and opportunity. He could take his time pretending to debate the wrongness and savor the feeling of Luffy’s determined exploration and coaxing. He could memorize the taste of Luffy’s tongue on his teeth and every twitch and scrunch-line on his nose as he stared. He could relish in Luffy’s warm breaths on his cheeks, his warm skin so close, and his warm fingers trailing down his jaw to rest on the firm muscles of his chest.

But it couldn’t last forever. Zoro forced himself to grip Luffy’s upper arms as gently as he could and wrench himself away. 

No words for a long few heartbeats. Luffy frowned up at Zoro and knew exactly what would come next. 

Finally, Zoro swallowed the lump in his throat, extinguished the heat blooming in his stomach, and let Luffy go. 

“Next week. Same time.” 

Luffy gave him a toothy smile. Zoro couldn’t decipher its meaning. 

“Okay, Zoro.” 

.::~::.

“You’re gonna end up dead, ya know that?” 

The nerve in Zoro’s brow fired. They’d sat in silence for so long, and  _ now _ Sanji chose to say something. Utter shit something at that. Zoro’s cutting glare did little to sway the man sharing a table with him. 

“Truth hurt?”

“Dunno what you’re on about.”

Sanji frowned and narrowed his gaze. “Didn’t think you were that dumb. Want me to spell it out, Marimo? It starts with an L-”

“I’m going to end up dead if you keep insinuating untrue things.”

“Untrue?” 

Fuck. 

“What part is untrue?”

Holy shit. 

“I’m waiting.” 

Sanji hadn’t said anything specific and saying anything would reveal the layers of actual truth that Zoro just was not ready to discuss, least of all to the idiot accusing him. 

“I almost thought you fell off the planet.” Zoro tried to deflect. “Guess I can only get so lucky.” 

“Don’t try to change the subject. I brought it up out of concern.” 

The look Zoro sent him told him just how much he believed him. Leaning back in his seat, Sanji sighed and shook his head. 

“Seriously though. You’re the only one in your position I know that blocks out two days in the middle of the week for one client. I’ve even heard a rumor that you tell your betters ‘no, sorry, that won’t work because I’m busy.’” 

“I never thought you’d be a gossip, but here we are, I guess.” 

“And I knew you were crazy, but not suicidal.” 

Zoro leaned heavily on his elbows toward Sanji and gave him the most intimidating scowl he could muster. “You don’t tell the heir to the House of Three D’s ‘no.’ He comes first over everyone.” 

Sanji mimicked Zoro’s movement, but with a lot less menace. “Is that a personal preference or just a fact?” 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Zoro huffed, pushing away from the table and more into his seat. 

At this, Sanji beamed. “Why yes, actually!” 

An eye-roll. “Don’t keep me in suspense.” 

“Zeff has taken me into his house.” 

Zoro couldn’t have felt colder if a bucket of ice had been poured over him. Their little group of misfits had dwindled down to just him in the past three months. Not that he cared Sanji of all people was leaving, but to be the last left was… sobering to say the least. 

Nami had been the first to go. While it wasn’t the highest house to be accepted into, Nefertari Vivi’s was nothing to scoff at. Nami could do almost anything she pleased now with the almost-princess backing her. (Not that she couldn’t before, but the officiality of it was preen-worthy.) 

Next had been Usopp. He had spun a wild tale so full of contradictory and ever-inflated details that no one was really sure where he ended up, but seeing him here and there around the city had reaffirmed that he was at least all right. The pretty blonde and his dopey grin he was often seen with confirmed his happiness as well. 

The one after, Robin. Her name was now Nico Robin if he remembered right. Whatever house had given her her name and whatever she did now was a total mystery. She hadn’t given them anything more than a gentle, enigmatic smile and soft giggle in explanation when they asked. They should have known better than to even try. 

Now, Sanji had been stolen up from the muck that was Everyone Without, leaving Zoro to be the last with no house, no influence, no name, and no easy friends. They all made social climbing look so easy, but one look around the tavern they frequented spoke in fierce opposition to its supposed ease. Not one of the customers, save for Sanji and the bar’s owner tending the counter, had any title, prospects, or sponsorship. 

Zoro’s friends just had the Devil’s luck, and he had used his up a very long time ago. 

“You’re looking at Black-Leg Sanji now.” 

“Mm.” Zoro hummed around the lip of his cup as he downed the last of the burning brew. “Still look like Sanji the Idiot-Pervert to me.” 

“No need to get jealous, Marimo! I bet any day that Heir of yours wi-” 

Zoro kicked out before he could stop himself and connected with Sanji’s shin. Both were up out of their chairs before Sanji even registered any pain. 

“Oi!” 

“Don’t say shit like that!” 

“Excuse me for giving you a little bit a hope!” 

“I don’t need hope! Weren’t you the one who said I was gonna end up dead for doing stupid shit?!” 

“I’m not wrong!” 

“You don’t gotta make it worse, dartboard-jackass!” 

“You’re the one making it worse, meathead!” 

“Pervert-Cook!” 

“Directionless neanderthal!” 

Every eye was on the two of them, waiting to see if they would actually come to blows. The patrons would hate to have to get up from their chairs and evacuate because of yet another one of Sanji’s and Zoro’s destructive squabbles. Not one of their friends were there to stop them, and the bartender could only lament the order he’d have to write for all new furniture yet again. 

Snorting, Zoro gave in. No fight tonight. 

“Giving up?” Sanji taunted. 

“Sparing you.” Zoro turned on his heels. “I have an appointment to keep.” 

“Run off then!” Sanji gestured angrily, trying to shoo Zoro away. “Don’t keep him waiting!” 

Zoro only smirked wickedly over his shoulder. “ _ Her _ . Not mid-week yet, is it?” 

Thrown off his game, Sanji stuttered. “Bastard! You better be nice to the lady! She deserves better!” 

“Too bad about being pulled into a house, idiot-cook. You might have been able to stand in for me.” 

Zoro left the bar before he could hear whatever Sanji had decided to throw his way. 

The atmosphere shifted almost immediately after Zoro shut the door behind him. While the stinking miasma of vomit and urine wasn’t the most pleasant of breathing conditions, Zoro much preferred the humidity of bodies, the gentle chatter, and the not-so-bad booze over the unnatural silence of the city around him. It was stark and lifeless, dark and cold. A newcomer would think their hometown abandoned if they walked the streets. 

A city of ghosts, trapped in cages that were passed from one hand to another, given more room, but no less trapped. Bars could be made from all kinds of metal after all. Gold was just pretty, and a jail would sparkle with it if formed right. 

Zoro didn’t want to think about it more and began to walk. Every footfall met a new puddle. The previous night’s rain had done a good job of chilling the air, wetting the cobblestones, and leeching the oil from the ground. The swirling rainbows floating on the water’s surface may have even been pretty if they didn’t make the path so slick and his boots so dirty. 

Perona would have a fit if he dragged in the mucky filth into her gorgeous home. 

He could afford her ire, he thought. If it wasn’t one thing, it’d be another. No doubt he’d piss her off just by talking at the wrong moment and ruining whatever fantasy she had built up in her head. Best to get the outbursts done and out of the way so he could finish his job, get paid, and leave. 

He sighed. With a little luck, if he had any left, he wouldn’t have to do this anymore. He could regain what he’d lost and put those responsible in their place. 

Zoro stopped underneath a streetlight and allowed himself a moment. The electric buzz above his head was the perfect whitenoise for traversing memories. Nothing specific came to his mind, just emotions, flashes, smells, and phantom feelings. A life before this, long gone and never to return to its original state. 

But he could grab a little back. 

A sound, metal on metal, cut through the light’s whining and pierced Zoro’s brain. Franky was working in his shop high above his head on one of the rooftops, creating another automated wonder that was sure to dazzle. But the strike, the clank and chime, was so similar that Zoro’s mind immediately latched onto the noise and brought forth concrete memories. 

_ Kuina. Her father. Practicing with swords. His first real match. Her victorious smile. ‘Better luck next time, Zoro.’  _

_ Night. Confusion. Blood.  _

** _They fought. They all lost._ **

Zoro began to walk again, locking the memories back in the vault where they belonged. Kuina was gone, as was her father, and no amount of reminiscing was going to bring them back. He had work to do for them. 

Even if he wasn’t particularly enthused by the company he had to keep for the evening. 

Thankfully, his well-known and well-used landmarks led him right into the heart of the Upper Houses district with nary a misstep. Before he knew it, he was standing outside of the familiar wrought-iron gate, looking up at a home that was less gothic than its neighbors with its dollhouse features in accents of pink and less dollhouse than its owner would have liked. 

She’d done a good job mashing her two conflicting likes into something aesthetically pleasing, Zoro’d give her that. 

Three knocks, and she’d know it was him. Three knocks and the gate opened. Three knocks and two bead-like eyes were staring at him. Zoro frowned. Kumacy. The automaton… animal… stuffed, mansized bear Perona had as her manservant always sent a shiver down his spine, and its developed personality grated against the good mood of even the most jovial person. Zoro would have taken any of the other mechanical servants over it. 

“The Mistress has been waiting.” Kumacy stated in a voice too deep for its cute exterior.

Zoro dug his finger into his ear and scowled as he walked past it. “I’m not late.” 

The bear seemed unconcerned with his answer and took the lead in walking to the house. “Mistress Perona is lonely.” 

There were a million things Zoro wanted to say to that; first and foremost, that if she was lonely, she should leave the playhouse she’s built herself and interact with the outside. That would only reflect badly on him, however, and it would only make him a hypocrite. He himself had been griping internally about his lack of friends upon Sanji’s announcement. Loneliness sought loneliness, it seemed. 

Zoro wasn’t sure how he got there, but he was in Perona’s bedroom by the time he looked up. He gave it one glance over and saw it hadn’t changed: soft seating, pastel pink carpet and canopy, dark gray furniture and quilts, accents of the deepest black and the whitest white trim, and many, many, many stuffed animals. Zoro couldn’t put into words the hatred he had for the little monsters. 

Any one of them could be another motorized servant, and the Gods only knew what she could be using those glass eyes for. 

“ _ Horo-horo-horo-horo~ _ ” 

He was glad he was used to Perona’s silent comings-and-goings. In her own element, Perona could move about much like a spirit; Zoro suspected she enjoyed the response of suddenly seeing her there and just how much she scared her rare guest. She wouldn’t get that from him. She never had even when he wasn’t desensitized to her quirks. 

“Perona.” He greeted.

She immediately soured. Arms folded, she crossed the room to stand in front of him and look him over. 

“Still haven’t taken my advice. You could be so cute too!” 

“This again?” Zoro smirked down at her. The game had begun. “Can’t help the flesh I was given.” 

A wicked grin. Zoro swore he saw a flash of sharpened teeth. “I could.” 

“The usual?” 

He was shoved hard enough that he stumbled back and landed on her bed. The usual it was then. Boring, but at least he knew exactly what was expected and that would make time go by that much faster. Any moment, she’d climb into his lap, strip them bare, push him back, and hold his wrists above his head as if his strength didn’t outmatch hers. It was all part of the game, her fantasy, and for a little while, she’d be happy. After that, Zoro could be happy with the money in his pocket. 

But the nudity never came. Perona straddled his waist just as she always had and ruined the routine from there. Wrapping her arms around his middle, she rested her head against his chest and sighed contently. 

“Oi-” 

“Kumacy is always so cold.” Perona commented. “You’re so warm though.” She gave him a squeeze. “Hey, hey. I have a proposition for you.” 

“Trying to switch things up?” 

“Hmmm~” She hummed into a giggle. “I suppose you could say that.” 

“Don’t keep me in suspense then.” 

“Why not be my new Kumacy?” 

Zoro ran cold again and whatever sultry smirk he had plastered on his face was gone in an instant. Be her new Kumacy? Just what in the fuck did that mean? Zoro had some ideas on what it could mean, and none of them appealed to him in the least. 

She turned her wide-eyed gaze up toward him. “What do you think? Hm? Hugging you would keep me warm. We’d have to do something about that low voice of yours, but I’m sure it’s nothing that can’t be fixed! All you have to do is be cute to work for me, and you’re about halfway there.” 

A flash of violence rushed through his mind like a bolt. Zoro didn’t wanted to hurt Perona, but knew he was more than capable. He peeled her off him with just a bit too much force, lifted her bodily, and dumped her onto her pillows. She squawked indignantly and fumed as he stood. 

“Hey!” she barked. “How dare you!?” 

He ignored her and fixed his clothing. Not a word was going to escape his anger-thinned, tight lips. 

“Don’t ignore me!” She shrieked as she struggled off her plush bed. 

Perona was up and behind him just as he wrenched her door open. With fierce, forceful hands, she curled claw-like fingers around his elbow. He used every bit of what little self-control he had not to rip himself away and shove her back onto her ass. 

“Is this how you act when someone is being generous?! You’d be a part of my house!” Perona pulled at him to come back into her room; he didn’t budge an inch. “Doesn’t every no-name nobody want that!? I’m giving you an opportunity!!” 

Zoro whipped his sharp silver glare down at her. Under the dangerous scrutiny and deadly aura, she withered like a dead vine and released him. No one had been so angry at her before, let alone so bluntly terrifying and unabashedly open with emotion that she felt as small as one of her stuffed toys. It was always her throwing her weight around, getting what she wanted, and having others shrink under her stares. Such was her privilege as one of the Heirs of Name of the higher houses. To have a Without shake her… 

Perona didn’t like it, and she certainly didn’t know what to do under its weight. It hit her very suddenly that while she believed she was trying to catch a puppy to make her own, she had actually grabbed a wolf by its tail and tugged. 

She couldn’t bring herself to stop him again when he walked away. Nothing would have worked regardless. 

He took the stairs two at a time, and despite the maze-like structure of Perona’s home, he made it to the front door without incident. Zoro could feel Kumacy’s confused look (or as confused as a mechanical, mostly covered face could look), but he didn’t spare him a glance. No doubt, Perona would rant at him later about the whore who left and dared to defy, and Kumacy would be there with just the right amount of silent sympathy and reassurance. He didn’t owe either of them anything. 

Anger drove his feet. He didn’t remember when he had slammed Perona’s gate behind him, but it simultaneously felt both days ago and within the last couple seconds. Zoro was often dragged from one place to another by his direction-confused feet, and now was different only in that he had no destination, only the will to cast a red, lashing aura and have everyone know just how rageful he was. 

Generous. The word kept popping up in his head over and over and over again until his brain was clogged with it. How was it generous to offer slavery? While Everyone Without  _ dreamed _ of the day one of their supposed betters would offer them a place in their house, give them a name, and help them live a happier life, the reality was their lives were only as good as their new leash-holder allowed them to be. So many had been swept away by the starry-eyed dream and so many more had fallen into worse despairs than they could have imagined just because of one person’s  _ generosity _ . 

While Perona probably wasn’t the worst of the upper houses, she certainly wasn’t the best. Zoro knew that Perona got what Perona wanted and anything outside the bubble of her own self interest wasn’t worth the upkeep. His stomach churned at the thought of being owned by her and her self-serving ways. 

“Damn it.” 

He grinded his teeth together. How could she even ask? Well, he supposed he knew  _ how _ and  _ why _ , but couldn’t understand the casualness of just asking someone to be owned. Even when he was… 

Zoro stopped and stared down at the ground. What good was it to be so angry? Wouldn’t it help to have the backing of a powerful house to forward his goals? 

Yes, but he hadn’t wanted Perona to ask. 

Sanji’s words from earlier ate like acid in his throat and at the back of his brain. He hated admitting the aspiring chef was right, but he was. If there was one person in the entire world he wanted to ask, it was Luffy. 

Scion to the Monkey D. house and officially accepted by the heir of both the Portgas D. and Gol D. houses, Luffy would have been anyone’s fantasy. There was nothing he couldn’t reach and nothing he could be denied. Anyone taken into his house would have those privileges extended to them as well. Zoro’s goals would be fast tracked if Luffy decided to take him in. 

But… Zoro couldn’t say with total honesty that was why. Poor man or king, Zoro  _ would _ snatch back everything owed. Luffy was special in ways Zoro couldn’t put into words. Being part of Luffy’s house would mean so much more, and Zoro wouldn’t have to hide or slink away from whatever affection they wanted to show one another. 

That all boiled down to Luffy and his whims, however. 

Zoro wasn’t sure what that even entailed. While Zoro was reasonably sure (absolutely sure, if he was being honest) what his own feelings toward the heir were, he wasn’t as certain about Luffy’s. For all he knew, whatever affection and kindness Luffy casually threw his way was just that: kindness. Luffy could just be that rare individual who was just that free with his emotions and without physical boundaries. 

Anger drained for the moment and a sigh upon his lips, Zoro finally stopped his wanderings and rubbed at his eyes tiredly. It was stupid of him to just leave like that. No work, no pay as the saying goes. If he had kept his head, he could have at least told Perona he’d think about it, wear her out enough that she wouldn’t remember anyway, and have money in his pocket. Bills and taxes didn’t care if he was having moral troubles, he chastised. 

Not only did he not have cash, but he’d also have to find his way home from wherever he ended up. 

Except… he knew this place. He knew how to get home from the exact spot he stood in. 

The front gate of the Monkey D. House loomed over him less like an ogre and more like a kindly tree, a well-loved landmark, a welcoming home. The difference between it and all the other houses in the area was as stark as night and day. Flowers bloomed in the garden, color reached every nook and cranny even in the dark, and the people,  _ real people _ , smiled and genuinely loved being on the estate.

Zoro didn’t want to think about why his feet had pulled him to Luffy’s home, but all the same his brain wandered. 

He wanted very much to push open the gate and go inside; he wanted to surprise Luffy with his presence, have the dinner he offered, spend the night in his bed, take a shower with him,  _ kiss _ . He wanted to drain away all his stress in the comfort of Luffy’s home with Luffy close by. He wanted… so much. Too much probably. 

Zoro’s hands curled around the bars of the fence and he looked up at the windows high on the upper floors. Luffy’s window was aglow, and he could see a shadow move across the curtains as someone mulled around the room. Given the time, he would say it was Luffy, but he couldn’t be sure. He wondered what he was doing and if he would turn in for the night soon. 

Impulsively, he looked around, hoping to find pebbles scattered in puddles at his feet. Maybe if he threw a few, he could discreetly get Luffy’s attention. Past that, he wasn’t sure what would come next; though, he had his hopes. 

“Who’s there?” 

Zoro jumped, snapping his gaze to the gate slowly opening near him. A lantern swung precariously in a long-fingered hand and cast a wild light as it sought him out. 

“Oh. It’s you. Good evening, Zoro.” 

Brook. Zoro relaxed. Out of all the people to find him lurking outside Luffy’s gate, he was glad it was the tall musician turned apparent watchman. 

“It isn’t mid-week.” Brook stated assuredly. “Have you gotten lost?” 

Yes and no, but Zoro wouldn’t admit it aloud. He instead took a step away from the fence and didn’t answer. 

“Zoro?” Brook moved closer and shut the gate behind him. “Are you well?” 

Well. Zoro was a great many things, but he wasn’t sure if well fit at that moment. He wasn’t sure how to articulate that to Brook, nor was he sure that he even should. They had spoken before, even laughed together, but past that, their camaraderie ended. They knew nothing of each other, and unloading the baggage Zoro carried with him currently would not only be unfair but unwanted, unjustifiable, and inappropriate to say the least. Brook was just a kindly acquaintance, not free therapy and an open ear. 

Just as he reached him and reached out to touch Zoro’s shoulder, Zoro moved one step back. 

“Yes.” He lied. “Long night already.” 

Satisfactory. Anyone would take that in stride. 

The look Brook gave him said otherwise, however. Zoro was unsure of his age, but he knew Brook had been around the block once or twice, and that experience made the musician’s perception of people all the more keen. It reminded him very much of Robin and her tight-lipped knowing. 

“I see.” Brook gave. “Well, if that’s the case, maybe a rest is in order. Why not come in a moment? I’ll make tea.” 

“That’s kind, but-” 

“I’m sure Luffy would be thrilled to know you’ve come to visit.” 

“No!” 

Zoro hadn’t meant to shout or be so sharp, but he couldn’t stop the outburst. Brook, to his credit, didn’t seem the least bit surprised. 

“No.” Zoro tried again. “But I appreciate the offer. And please, don’t bother Lu-” He swallowed the name, “Don’t bother the Heir of Three with news of my arrival. There’s no need to, uh,  _ ahem _ , rile him.” 

“I’ll consider it.” 

Brook’s tone and the implication made Zoro’s throat tighten. He took another step back and headed toward the path that would eventually lead him home. It was best he made his escape while he could.

“Have a good evening, Brook.” He said curtly as he began to walk. 

“You as well, Zoro. See you mid-week.” 

Maybe. If he wasn’t gutted and killed by one of the many working for the upper houses first. 

.::~::.

The next four days were utter Hell. Zoro could deal with the threat of death hanging over him like a wet cloak. Since he was young, he’d dealt with that, but he could hardly deal with the grating auras of everyone he had come into contact with. Having the weight of his emotions and what was asked of him drag him down while also having to go about Business As Usual left little room in the way of patience and a job well done. 

Appointments were already tedious affairs; they were near unbearable to him now.

The ones he could afford to cancel, he did; the others, he powered through somehow. But now, he stood once again outside Luffy’s gate and considered the terrible repercussions of cancelling and fleeing back home. 

That would make him a coward, and prideful as Zoro was, he couldn’t cast his lot in with Usopp just yet. Still, the temptation was great. 

“Welcome back, Zoro.” 

And the opportunity was gone. 

It really wasn’t fair that Brook could get the drop on him every time; it was doubly unfair that he was the one there to greet him. He was content to avoid the musician for all eternity. 

“Luffy has been waiting for you. He’s very excited tonight.” 

Zoro swore he saw a glint in his eye, a terrible, knowing, laughing glint, that told him Brook and Luffy had had a very interesting conversation. 

_ Shit-stirrer _ . He should introduce Brook to Sanji and Nami. Maybe even Robin. Possibly Usopp. Brook would fit right in. 

Why were all his friends like this? It wasn’t a realization he wanted to have while already stewing. 

Lifting his chin, he pocketed his hands and walked straight past him. As much as he’d like to say that he wouldn’t dignify the jab with a response, he truly didn’t have one. Like the rest, he needed to treat this as just another appointment, and it was best to get it over with. There was no need to burden Luffy with his issues. 

Though, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do if Luffy actually pushed. In Zoro’s experience, Luffy was the type to let others come to him and expose what they wanted on their own time, but anything Brook might have told him, as little information he could give him, might have shaken him out of normalcy and have him press him for information. 

Would he cave under Luffy’s questioning? Would he fall into the meek persona he needed to adopt when in the presence of his supposed betters? If he did answer, what would he even say? 

Zoro felt like a child about to be scolded for doing something terribly wrong. What was worse was it was Luffy of all people going to do the scolding. He had never seen it first hand, but Luffy just looked like he’d be dreadfully awful at it, and that fact alone made Zoro struggle with it being either better or worse. 

“Would you like some tea?” 

A shiver ran down Zoro’s spine with how close Brook’s voice was. He should have been paying more attention rather than allowing his brain to be pulled around by his heart. 

“No. Thank you.” 

“ _ Yo-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho _ ~” Came Brook’s odd laugh. “Feeling better then?” 

“It was just an off night.” 

“Off enough to rattle even you.”

Zoro’s jaw ticked. What did he know? He didn’t want to have this conversation any more now than he did before. He just wanted to see Luffy. 

_ Just like he wanted to see him then _ . 

He could have kicked himself. When did he become such a lovesick fool? 

Fuck. Love. He can’t believe he admitted to that. At least he hadn’t said anything aloud. 

“The Heir’s waiting.” 

Zoro took the opportunity to slip away before the musician could trap him. No doubt he would try again when Zoro was less burdened by a time constraint and Luffy was sound asleep, but that was Future-Zoro’s problem to deal with. 

Present-Zoro had much on his plate. Namely the churning in his stomach at the thought of Luffy,  _ generous _ running through his head again, Perona’s awful proposal, and just when his punishment would be enacted. If worse came to worse, he could take to the Thieves’ Highway and hope he was able to avoid whomever Perona sent his way until she tired of trying and he could go back to his normal. 

Of course, he wouldn’t need to if Luffy-

He viciously chased the thought away as he walked down the hallway toward Luffy’s room. That wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to ask that of Luffy nor was it okay in any shape or form. If Luffy wanted to, he would have already. Zoro knew him well enough to know that he had no filter, no limit, and no concept of not being able to have what he wanted. It was just completely different than the way Perona and all the rest he knew in the noble houses went about it. 

Gentle selfishness. If that was even a thing, that was Luffy. 

Selfish and so, so giving. Gentle and playful, but forceful and dead serious. First glance portrayed childishness, but that was just his single-minded drive being misinterpreted. 

Zoro by comparison was painted in darker shades, and he didn’t deserve him in any way. 

“Zoro!” 

He didn’t deserve him. 

“You’re here!” 

His hands on his, pulling, eager, warm. Zoro didn’t deserve the touch. 

“I missed you.” A whisper. His forehead touched his. Fingers laced together. “A week’s too long.” 

Zoro didn’t deserve him, but he wanted him  _ so badly _ . 

A murmur. “Luffy.” 

He was already a hunted man. What was one more crime? 

“Is Zoro okay?” 

He swore he heard genuine worry in his voice, but that couldn’t be right. No. That was wrong in and of itself. It was right because Luffy cared. Just not the way that Zoro did. Luffy cared for everyone he liked. He was blessed to be in that category. 

“Zoro?” 

Zoro detached his hands from Luffy’s to cup his face. 

This is by far his dumbest idea. 

“Zoro~?” 

“Luffy.”

He pulled Luffy closer as he descended and sealed his lips over his. Shutting his eyes, he fell deep into the feeling.  _ He _ started this.  _ He _ kissed Luffy.  _ He _ wanted him to feel every drop of everything he felt for him in one simple gesture. Rules be damned. Luffy needed to know that his feelings ran deeper than his kindness. 

The simplicity didn’t last. Luffy’s hands covered his, and his mouth opened to signal the want for more. Zoro gladly gave. He didn’t need anymore coaxing. 

They rose to a boil together. Sliding tongues, huffing breaths, tensing bodies, curling fingers. Both moved each other back to find Luffy’s bed and tumbled onto it with little grace. They broke apart for just long enough to stare at each other, but it didn’t last. 

Luffy’s hands sought Zoro’s shirt and wrenched it apart with enough force to snap the buttons from it and send them skittering with laughter across his sheets and floor. He looked down at the damage, decided he didn’t care, and wanted to return the favor. Zoro’s hands were more rough with Luffy’s nightshirt, buttons flung so far that they went unheard in their joyous freedom and fabric ripping under the strain. 

A smirk that Zoro didn’t even know Luffy could wear appeared on his face as he was pulled back down to be devoured. 

Nevermind their shirts, nevermind their pants either. Luffy could afford new clothes, and Zoro couldn’t care less about his. Not in this moment. Not when he wanted to lose himself in Luffy and bury every rage-inducing, anxiety-aggravating thought he’d had these last four days. 

Zoro moved down the column of his neck, determined to leave his mark somewhere on his skin. He wasn’t so far gone as to leave any love bites anywhere terribly conspicuous, but nonetheless, they would be left. 

“Are you-” Luffy swallowed. Zoro felt his Adam’s apple bob under his lips. “I mean, will you stay the night?” 

Zoro reached the dip of his collar and paused. He hadn’t thought about it. Impulsiveness and want had gotten the best of him, and thinking so far ahead had fled his mind. The idea was a nice one. 

In for a penny, in for a pound, as they say. Zoro was already in too deep and there was no point in trying to stop a speeding train. 

“Yes.” A husky reply. “I will.” 

Luffy shivered under him. Whether from excitement, arousal, or both, he couldn’t tell, but Zoro liked the way it felt under his hands and lips and he wanted more.

.::~::.

The sunlight woke him before he was ready to be roused. At first, his sleep-addled mind thought nothing of the warm light, but the realization dawned on him that there was no way his home could even have the sun pour in. If that wasn’t jarring enough, the body that shifted next to him was enough to wake him fully. 

It still stunned him to see Luffy sleeping so peacefully. Sleeping next to  _ him _ , wearing  _ his _ hickies and love bites, being kept warm from  _ his _ heat. 

Zoro couldn’t stop the swell of pride that blossomed in his chest. He should have felt the cool drip of his upcoming departure, but as long as Luffy was sleeping and as long as no one came to wake him and see, Zoro was allowed to stay and savor the moment. 

Or at least until nature called. 

As quietly as he could manage, Zoro snuck out of bed and into the restroom. It was odd going in there without Luffy padding behind him, eager and wanting a shower and a few more moments together. 

Looking back on their interactions now, he wondered if it was Luffy’s easy affection that drove Luffy to be, dare he say it,  _ loving _ with him, or if like Zoro, he’d fallen for him. That still didn’t seem right. Zoro was at the bottom of the food chain, and even if Luffy was… odd for an Heir of Name, none had diverged that much from the beaten path that they forgot their place and the places of others. 

He washed his hands and face and went back into Luffy’s room, finding him still asleep. Now wrapped around the pillow Zoro had used, Luffy looked the picture of peace and perfection. Sunlight on tan skin, raven-dark hair on cream-colored sheets, soft breaths on softer blankets, no one would ever suspect that he was boisterous, destructive, and demanding. Zoro had heard a time or two from Luffy’s servants that he was “an agent of chaos.” Spoken as lovingly as possible, of course. 

Zoro was willing to believe that; it was an easy thing to imagine. 

Smile blooming, Zoro collected his ruined shirt and wrinkled pants and threw them on. He should leave. He knew he should leave while he could, but he was drawn back to bed. He had to drink in these last moments, had to wrap himself around Luffy, had to wake him and say his good-byes. It was the right thing to do. 

Putting his knee on the bed, he leaned over Luffy and ran his fingers through his hair. 

“Luffy.” He called. 

Luffy squirmed, rubbed his face into the pillow he held, and groaned. Too early for him to wake, it seemed. Zoro tried again, and successfully got Luffy to open a sleepy eye and look up at him. 

A smile. “Mmm, Zoro.” 

“Morning.” 

“You stayed.” 

“I said I would.” 

His grin grew, and his arms reached up to wrap around Zoro’s neck. 

“Again?” Luffy asked, tickling Zoro’s jaw with his breath and feather-light kiss. 

“Not sure if we have time before breakfast.” 

“Zoro can have breakfast with me.” 

“That so?” Zoro smirked and bumped noses with him. “Well, then-” 

The opening of the door should have rang like a warning bell, as should have the heavy, booted feet on Luffy’s carpet. But, as there was no splinter wood, no shouts of anger, and no singing blades or cocked crossbows, both reacted too late. Hands were on Zoro’s arms and the scruff of his neck, pulling him back and separating him from Luffy. 

“Zoro!” Luffy scrambled out of the trap his covers made to follow. “Let him go!!” 

A uniformed body came between them, stopping Luffy and cutting off Zoro’s line of sight. 

“Heir of Three, please relax. He won’t bother-” 

“Zoro isn’t a bother!” 

Luffy shoved past him and rushed into the hallway just as Zoro shook one of his captor’s hands from his arm and swung wildly at the other. His fist connected, sending the guard reeling in pain and clutching at his cheek. 

Zoro wanted to turn around, say something to Luffy, and get away as quickly as possible, but he couldn’t. He heard more coming. Just how many had been sent after him? Was Perona that determined to see her justice done?

No. Not just her. He hadn’t seen her house’s mark on any of the men. He glanced down at the whining guard at his feet and froze at the emblem glittering on his breast. 

_ Council. _ The High Council had sent theirs for him. He couldn’t fathom it.

Zoro couldn’t stay either. His hesitation had already cost him and would do so again before he could run. Just as he pivoted on his heel and surged forward with everything he had, he was surrounded. He punched and thrashed violently and knew he had connected with more than a few soft areas, but the urge to escape was greater than his urge to fight.

And he very nearly did, but one good push got him off-balance. His hand shot out to catch the wall, and the opportunity, the one moment of defenselessness, was all his detainers needed to pin him against the flat surface and stab. 

At first, his adrenaline-addled mind thought _dagger,_ _pain, pain, dagger, death, blood loss, _but the metal was too slender, too precise, and too short to be the blade of a knife or otherwise. The glint of glass from the corner of his eye told him all he needed to know. Syringe. An empty syringe at that. 

A nauseating dizziness gripped him, and the wall offered no support. 

“That’s it now.” He thought he heard someone say to him. “Don’t fight it, boy.” 

Strength, something Zoro had in spades, meant nothing against the ravages of medicine. Even a monster could be put to bed with the right concoction of poison. 

“Zoro!” 

Luffy’s voice was the last coherent thing he remembered. After was just noise and blurred colors. He felt no pain if any was inflicted upon him, and he thought no complete thoughts if anything came to his mind at all. He hadn’t the foggiest idea where he was, how long he had been there, or how long he had been under the drug’s effects when he came to in a dank, bricked hole. 

He knew prison cells. He knew them almost as well as his own apartment; in fact, he’d compared the relative hole in the wall to one a time or two. All his current one needed was a handmade down bed and a collection of odds-and-ends and there would truly be no difference. His mind wouldn’t have been a-rush with confusion otherwise. 

Just another day waking up in Demon’s Doorway. He would have welcomed that over the slimy stone he laid on. 

Groaning, Zoro tried to sit up and did not get far. Stiffness from sleeping on the ground combined with the unfathomable amount of restraints they’d put on him kept him firmly rooted. 

“It lives.” A voice from the dark. 

“Not for long.” Another with a slight laugh. 

“Got that right. Right on time for his trial too.” 

“Idiot this one, duncha agree?” 

Again, a laugh. “Don’t have to agree, do I? Evidence is all there.” 

Zoro couldn’t take it. “Where am I?” 

“Don’t know where he is.” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” 

“Apparently not if he has to ask.” 

He growled. “Tell me!” 

Together, they answered. “Impel Down.” 

A lantern-light suddenly flared like a wisp in the dark. For a brief moment, Zoro swore he could see faces through the bars to the cells just on the other side of the hallway, but they hid from the light like night creatures and crawlies. He wouldn’t shrink away. It wasn’t a matter of whether he could or not. What point was there to show fear when truthfully, he didn’t feel that? 

“This is the one.” 

Clanking keys and a rusty hinge was the beginning of a dirge written just for him. Still, even when hands made quick work of his locks, wrapped around his still bound arms, and hauled him from the ground, he fought. He could connect with nothing, and his struggle was no more damaging than a child’s tantrum. Zoro wasn’t sure if any one else tried to speak with him or if the voices he heard as he was dragged up and up and up endlessly were just ghosts whispering in his ears and welcoming him early to the other side. 

The melody of his death reached its climax as he was led bodily into a blindingly bright room with high seats and many eyes staring down at him. His knees were crushed by the approaching ground as he was thrown carelessly in the middle of the stage. They didn’t bother to secure him in place. Everyone could see where he would run and would head him off again if need be. 

“-Hereby charged with the crimes of-” 

When had they started talking? 

“-Abuse and assault of Mistress Perona of the Upper House of-” 

He hadn’t hurt her. How dare they? 

“-Seduction of the Heir of Three, Lord Monkey D. Luffy-” 

He hadn’t seduced him; it was Luffy who had completely swept him away. 

“-Staying within the house when not accepted-” 

Luffy had asked him to stay, but had not claimed him. His mind swam. The drug still hadn’t left him completely. 

“-Feinting a romantic relationship with the aforementioned Heir of Three with the intent-” 

“It wasn’t a feint.” Zoro tried, but his voice was no more than a whisper. 

They wouldn’t listen anyway. 

“-Guilty of all charges-” 

He wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t already found guilty. He wished he could have screamed. 

“-The punishment of which is dea-” 

“Wait!!” 

The voice grounded Zoro. His ears no longer swam with voices and muddled white noise. Everything was quiet and all eyes turned to the opened double doors and the comparatively small man standing in the towering, imposing frame. Zoro managed to turn his head just enough to look for himself and saw Luffy panting and dishevelled. 

“Zoro’s a part of my house!” 

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said in the note above, I had no idea how to tag this. I don't even believe that I truly understand the world that I built for this particular fic past knowing it wasn't in the canon universe of One Piece. I think I tried to make it steampunk, but I failed miserably. If that helps anyone grasp the environment however, great! 
> 
> As always, if you'd like me to continue any one of the First Line Series fics, let me know and I'll put it under consideration. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!


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